


First Nights

by arguably_somaya



Series: Light The World Up For Just One Day [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Family Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Magic Bullshit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, plot holes? we call those artistic flair round these parts, seriously this shit is so sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25487485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arguably_somaya/pseuds/arguably_somaya
Summary: The dragon of Gotham slowly took more and more children into his Manor ever so often. But the people in the city don't see what happens behind closed doors. The first night each child decides to stay is wildly different each time, but there is one constant: they all end up wrapped in Bruce's arms (or wings).(You should probably read the first work in this series before trying this one)
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Light The World Up For Just One Day [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703572
Comments: 48
Kudos: 410





	1. Dick

**Author's Note:**

> DANG this work took a lot longer than I expected lol but its!! finally here thank god. i had some //minor// mental health issues and a small depressive episode but that's quarantine babey. you know me, the grind neva stop  
> thank you to everyone who left amazing comments on my work, you guys are The Best  
> ((this work updates every 3 days (hopefully?)))

The dragon of Gotham is an inky black, terrifyingly powerful reptilian death machine. Feared by criminals all over the world, both human and not, his reputation is one of ruthless, clever, silent intellect, the kind that could save the world as much as it could destroy it. 

He is Power. He is Darkness. He is Vengeance. 

He is… also a little, ah, _stuck_ , at the moment. 

“Alfred,” Bruce whispers desperately. 

The butler doesn’t take any pity on him, choosing instead to snicker quietly just outside Bruce’s field of vision, stacking logs on the robust fire in the fireplace. _Traitor._ “Yes, Master Bruce?” 

Bruce tries not to breathe too hard, for fear that the warm little body on his lap might wake or slide off or- or _something_ , dammit, he’s not experienced with humans! “The boy is… asleep. On me.” The dragon wills his butler to understand just how much of a dilemma this is.

No such luck. Alfred just raises a perfectly British eyebrow from the corner of Bruce’s gaze. “Have you considered being a detective, sir?”

“What do I do?” Bruce begs.

Dick lets out another soft snore, and Bruce freezes again, hardly daring to breathe. “You seem to be doing perfectly adequate at the moment,” Alfred notes dryly. Bruce wonders absently what he did in some past life to deserve such a traitorous, _mean_ butler.

It’s Dick’s first night at the Manor, and Bruce has been running himself ragged to accommodate him. It’s just- the boy is so _small_ compared to Bruce’s bulk, even when he’s in human form, let alone his giant draconic body.

Dick’s so _sad_ too, sad in a way Bruce can understand. It’s been years since his sires died, but Bruce still remembers that night down to the last detail. It’s only been days since Dick was orphaned, and while the child is bubblier than Bruce had been, he spends a significant portion of his time crying into Bruce’s chest. His shirt is still wet with Dick’s salty tears, he can smell it even now. It opens a pit in his stomach that _aches._

It’s a very well-kept secret that sometimes, dragons with extraordinary control can shift from human to dragon form on command. Bruce is, naturally, one of these shifters. He’s done it so much, trained himself so intensely, that the low pain of the shift barely registers in his mind anymore.

And he’d been there that night, with Alfred, watching Haly’s Circus. He’d watched the Graysons fall, felt Dick’s shock and horror echoed in his own heart so clearly it was like they had been _his_ loss. 

He’d heard the crowd, the gasps and the screams. But most of all, he’d watched Dick, had really, _really_ looked at him, like he’d never looked at a human before, and had discovered the light tug of _possession_ in his stomach. Bruce had given up on hoping he’d feel the hoarding urge, but that night, Dick awoke a fierce craving within Gotham’s dragon to… to _protect_ the boy.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting dinner brought to you?” Alfred says, not even _trying_ to hide his amusement. The dragon doesn’t acknowledge him beyond a slight pout.

Bruce’s tail hesitantly curls around the Dick’s lithe body, pressing him closer to Bruce’s chest before the limb deftly retreats back into the dragon’s body. “What if I ruin him?” he whispers.

“You won’t,” Alfred says firmly. He places his hand on Bruce’s shoulder comfortingly. “I won’t let you.”

“Okay,” Bruce breathes. A sense of relief fills him. “Okay.”

“Sleep, Master Bruce. We’ll deal with this in the morning, just like always.”

And he does.

-~*~-

In the morning, Bruce is awoken by a bouncing weight clambering along his shoulders. It takes him a second to realize where he is and who is climbing him; he’s not very used to sleeping in human form. “Dick?” he rumbles.

The boy lets out an annoyed huff right next to Bruce’s left ear. “Jeez, B, you’ve been sleeping for _hours._ Get upppp!”

To the casual observer, one would think Dick had forgotten his parents’ gruesome death, but Bruce just has to take one look at those crystal-blue eyes to see the deep sadness lingering beneath the surface. And of course, the fact that Dick had cried himself to sleep on Bruce’s chest the night before. 

The fireplace, which had been roaring when Bruce had closed his eyes, is now a pile of ashes, not even smoldering. He’s slept far longer than he had meant to. “What time is it,” Bruce rumbles groggily.

“Time for you to _get up,_ ” Dick says insistently. “‘m _hungry_ and you’re so _slow._ You’re never this slow when you’re a giant lizard.”

“Dragons are _not_ lizards, Dick,” Bruce corrects mildly. “Not even close.”

“Pssh. Whatever,” Dick scoffs, prodding at Bruce’s back and the raised bumps of his wing-sheathes, which twitch and elongate under his mischievous touch.

Bruce huffs and climbs off the armchair, feeling his bones and skin begin to shift. “That wasn’t very nice, chum.”

“Sorry, not sorry.”

Through the whole transformation, Dick clings to Bruce’s neck until he’s twelve feet in the air. Bruce lowers the boy gently to the floor, where Dick scampers off only to run to Bruce’s front and wrap the dragon’s snout in a hug.

_“Dangerous,”_ Bruce murmurs.

Dick hums. “Warm,” he counters. “I like you.”

Something in Bruce’s chest softens. “ _I like you too,”_ he admits.

“Good,” Dick nods firmly as if he has fixed everything wrong in the world. And in some way, Bruce marvels, he has. 

“Now, can we finally get breakfast? I really am hungry.”


	2. Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Bruce is not so proud that he can’t admit when he’s in over his head. It’s a rare occurrence, for sure, but this, more than anything in the past few years, is  _ definitely _ one of those times. 

“Can we keep him?” Dick begs. “Please, please, please?”

Jason screws his face up in an irritated scowl. “I’m not a fucking  _ pet _ ,” he spits.

“Never said you were,” Dick soothes, then turns his pleading eyes on Bruce. “So?”

“It’s up to Jason,” Bruce reminds his ward for the fifth time within the hour. He’s flagging. He needs to talk to Alfred.

“He practically slid in here last week!”

“Hey! It was a  _ dare,”  _ Jason insists. “Just didn’t expect Bats over there to have the entrance to his fuckin’  _ cave _ out in the middle of the  _ forest _ .”

“ _ Hnn _ .”

“C’mon, Jaybird, admit it. Wouldn’t you rather be  _ here  _ than sleeping on the streets?” Dick wheedles. He’s been working on getting Jason to stay for the past week. Alfred says he’s lonely, in an accusatory tone, though Bruce hardly sees why  _ he’s  _ the one to blame. 

Jason puffs up. “Nothin’ wrong with the streets,” he says indignantly, like he has for the past week, but then he hesitates. Quieter, he adds, “But, I guess... it  _ is _ kinda boring out there...”

Dick  _ cheers _ .

Okay, Bruce  _ definitely _ needs to talk to Alfred. Now. “Dick,” he prompts, watching the older boy perk up to meet Bruce’s gaze. “Why don’t you show Jason around the manor? I believe he’s only seen the cave.”

The acrobat shoots a wink at him, obviously catching onto Bruce’s plan. “Yeah, sure!” he chirps, already pulling Jason, who’s cursing up a rather characteristic storm, out of the room.

“Alright, alright, ya don’t gotta  _ pull me,  _ Dickhead-”

Bruce allows himself a small smirk at his thirteen-year-old’s antics. Then he feels another, angrier presence enter the room. “Alfred-”

“Another one?” Alfred demands. Bruce lets out a weary sigh. “I hope you are aware you are taking an  _ enormous  _ risk, Master Bruce. How could you even  _ think- _ ”

“He needs me,” Bruce interrupts, surprising himself by his own ferocity. “He’s alone and sleeping on the  _ streets _ , for the gods’ sakes!”

“No dragon has ever taken more than one  _ Robyn _ at a time. You have  _ no idea  _ what this could do to them, to their psyches, to their  _ bodies- _ ”

Bruce could feel his wings flaring from his back. “You might not agree with me, but Jason is staying.” His voice comes out in a reptilian hiss. “I  _ can’t _ , in good consciousness, send him back to the streets. It’s  _ wrong. _ ”

“The same argument could be made about  _ hoarding human children _ ,” Alfred says coolly.

Bruce clenches his jaw. “I didn’t choose this and you know that, Alfred.”

The light of the fireplace casts flickering shadows on the butler’s worn face for a moment. Then: “No, I suppose you didn’t,” Alfred admits grudgingly.

“Trust me, Alfred, nobody is more aware of the risks than me. But I  _ have  _ to take them. Not just for myself. For them, too.” Bruce stares unblinking into the butler’s eyes, trying to press understanding into Alfred’s head.  Out of the blue, Dick’s charming laughter rolls through the manor, joined by Jason’s muffled snorts and giggles. Bruce tilts his head to listen, lips twitching upward unconsciously at the sound.

Alfred snaps him out of his reverie. “Fine,” the man relents. “But if he’s staying, you need to let them out more. And I mean  _ actually  _ outside. Master Dick  _ cannot  _ keep climbing the turrets anymore.”

Bruce resists a groan, but only just. The subject of allowing Dick, and now Jason, into the forest is a sensitive one. The immediate protective urge rose in his stomach. “Too dangerous,” he says with distaste. 

It’s not...  _ natural  _ for a dragon’s hoard to leave its domain. 

The concern is not  _ exactly  _ rational, Dick (and Jason now, too) are marked as part of Bruce’s hoard; anything magical worth its weight in salts will leave them be. It’s the  _ people  _ he’s more worried about. Even so, the thought makes Bruce’s gut clench and his tail lash.

“It’s not up for discussion,” Alfred says firmly. “Either you place Master Jason in the, ahem,  _ capable  _ hands of the orphanage, or you let them into the forest.”

Bruce is saved from having to answer when Dick steamrolls into the room, Jason following at a much more leisurely pace. “I’m so excited to have another  _ Robyn  _ here!” the boy gushes.

“Th’ hell’s a robin?”

“ _ Robyn.  _ It’s a draconic word. It means… someone who is part of a dragon’s hoard,” Bruce supplies, translating the word as close as possible. It means much more than simply that, but Bruce is grateful enough for the distraction that he doesn’t bother trying to impress the full weight of the word onto little Jason. 

The concept of  _ Robyns  _ is… difficult to grasp in its entirety for non-dragons. Even some dragons don’t get it, mostly the species that tend not to hoard. The vast majority of dragons hoard items and objects; Bruce’s own parents had been obsessed with gold. But to be a  _ Robyn _ is to be owned, completely, both in and out, by a dragon. Bruce has heard of dragons who hoarded their true loves, but no one has ever tried hoarding  _ multiple  _ people. It’s extremely rare for a dragon to get the urge to hoard human beings, and to have more than one  _ Robyn _ in the same century, let alone the same hoard? It’s an entirely novel concept. 

“That’s what I am now?”

Dick nods enthusiastically. “It’s great. You never get never hungry and there’s all sorts of cool stuff in the forest-“

Jason rolls his eyes while Bruce rears back. “The  _ forest _ ?”

“-and you get to sleep on top of Bruce and you already know he’s super warm-“ 

“And what’s up with  _ that? _ ” Jason cuts in again, rolling his eyes. “It’s like I can’t get warm anymore on the streets. Been freezing my ass off every night since I met  _ you _ .” His tone is accusatory when he zeroes in on Bruce. 

The dragon shrugs. “Side effects. Let’s get back to what you said about the forest,” he says to Dick, who’s expression goes all faux-innocent. 

“I dunno what you mean, B.”

He can feel Alfred’s glare at the back of his head, and Dick’s puppy dog eyes at his front. So they’re working together. How a conspiracy against him went unnoticed in his territory is a matter of grave concern. He'll have to consider it later. And put a stop to it, of course. In the meantime...

Defeated, Bruce lets out a resigned sigh. “We will talk about this later, Dick,” he warns. The boy fist-pumps unconcerned. 

Then, something must pop into his ward’s head, because the older  _ Robyn  _ smacks his forehead as if suddenly remembering something, before turning to Jason in excitement. Bless Dick’s heart, but nobody would ever accuse him of being a particularly focused individual. 

“Oh my gods, I can’t believe it, I haven’t even told you about the library yet!”

Immediately, Jason’s resting sneer drops straight off his face, replaced by an expression of wide-eyed surprise. “L... Library?” His tone is achingly young. If there was any doubt in Bruce’s mind Jason was staying, it disappeared that instant. 

“Yeah! You said you like to read, right? It’s  _ huge _ , and it’s got a ton of books in it-”

Jason is quiet for a moment, listening to Dick espouse the wonders of the giant library, when the young boy darts forward suddenly to squeeze his arms around Bruce’s waist. As soon as the hug starts, Jason backs off again, practically running from the room. 

“Thanks or whatever,” the boy hollers over his shoulder, aiming for nonchalance but getting nowhere close. The furious blush on his face could be spotted a mile away. 

Bruce stands rooted to the spot, struck dumb. Alfred lets out a quiet chuckle. 

“We’re  _ so _ keeping him,” Dick decides. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks sm for the comments yall!


	3. Tim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the way i almost forgot to post this- chile

Tim’s first night is… stressful. 

It hasn’t been long since Jason’s magical adventure with the dark wizard Jester, culminating in a very angry, very undead  _ Robyn  _ stuck in the manor for the next few months with major injuries. 

Bruce  _ still  _ has no idea which necromancer saw fit to resurrect Jason, but when he’d finally found the boy lying on a sand dune, blood trickling sluggishly from open wounds onto cold sand, he’d  _ reeked _ of the mark of death; sickly sweet, like rotten pomegranates. It’s a smell Bruce has only barely managed to cover with his own. 

Jason had locked himself in his room at every possible opportunity with chilling, silent anger. He has no idea what happened after he passed out, no idea what he really went through, but he knew enough to be livid about it. There’s only so much Bruce can hide from him, and the new white streaks of hair are resistant to any and all attempts to cover it up, short of shaving Jason’s head (which may not even work). And whenever Dick was in the same room as Bruce, the air practically shivered with tension. They had gotten into several screaming matches over letting Dick out to see his friends. The oldest boy was practically radiating displeasure at Bruce’s renewed overprotection, which the dragon knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to relax. How could he, with his child, his  _ Jason,  _ suffering as he is? When his Jason actually  _ died? _

Regardless, the tension was rising in the Manor. Just when Bruce could sense the inevitable explosion incoming, three short, determined knocks had sounded at the front door.

And just like that, nine-year-old Tim Drake had dropped into their lives. Alfred had taken one look at him and did an impressive double-take and practically shouted “You!” in a scandalized voice, the likes of which Bruce hadn’t seen since Dick managed to break his arm taunting some goblins. Somehow, Tim had managed to make the trek through the forest, in the fog and the dark and twisting, curving, nonsensical pathways. Not even  _ Tim _ really knows how he made it through.

That had been just a week ago, and the past seven days had been… busy. 

Dick and Jason had been successfully lured out of their respective moods by the arrival of a new potential  _ Robyn.  _ Tim seems befuddled, but happy, with all the attention, and by the time the young boy had candidly detailed his unfortunate home life, the telling tug in Bruce’s gut had become too intense to ignore. Tim was staying.

But Tim, unlike the other boys, actually  _ had  _ a family; a deeply undeserving one, but a family nonetheless. Tim couldn’t see how awful, how negligent, how… how  _ not protective  _ his parents were. It made Bruce want to snarl every time he thought about his youngest  _ Robyn  _ sitting in that empty damned house for hours, like he was still a fledgling who couldn’t control his fangs.

And Bruce wasn’t the only one. Jason adored Tim, having taken to big brotherhood extremely well. He could tease and poke fun at Tim for hours, but Jason always lit up when he was able to make the small boy laugh. Even when Tim  _ wasn’t  _ around, Jason spent more time thinking up junk food he could introduce to the kid than sulking over his casts. 

Dick thought Tim was positively adorable. He loved picking him up at inopportune times, and claimed a monopoly over teaching little Tim the combat skills every  _ Robyn  _ needs. The little boy always spluttered in shock whenever he got trapped in one of Dick’s squeezing, cooing monstrous versions of a hug. 

But despite his raging instincts and the protective hormones that flood Bruce’s brain whenever he sees Tim’s too-big clothing pool around his limbs, Bruce is an  _ adult _ with a firm understanding and a healthy sense of respect for the concept of  _ boundaries _ . Dick and Jason have an eight step plan called “Get Timmy To Stay In The Manor” that’s already in phase 3. All things considered, Bruce thinks he’s handling this pretty well, discounting that one time Bruce (gently) pinned Tim with his wings and didn’t let him out for an hour. Still; pretty good. 

Then one night, there are three weak knocks on the door, barely distinguishable from the pouring rain, then the sound of a body slumping against the door. 

Alfred is asleep, but the rest of them are awake, having just come back from a patrol in the city. Dick gets to the front door first by jumping the stairs entirely, shooting Bruce a concerned look. Jason is not far behind, and though he looks less unnerved than Dick does, his brow is furrowed. Bruce knows what he’s thinking, because he’s thinking the same things; It’s nearly morning now, way too late for any visitors, and there are a  _ lot _ of people who would love to kill a dragon. 

Then again, it could also be Diana or Oliver sticking their noses in his business again, so.

Dick opens the door, and all three Waynes gape blankly at the sight of Timothy Drake, soaking wet and covered in splinters.

“H-hi,” Tim mumbles, shivering violently. The fire in Bruce’s lungs grows exponentially hotter rapidly.

Dick pulls him inside quickly, wrapping him in a warming hug. “What happened?” he demands.

“Who do I have to maul,” Jason growls, stalking up to the other boys, pulling Tim (and Dick by proxy) toward the living room. He’s practically blue in the face from the cold.

Tim sneezes, allowing himself to be manhandled. “Please d-don’t.”

“What happened, Tim,” Bruce growls. He can feel his fingers sharpening, and his pupils narrow, but he can’t help it. Just- who on earth would dare hurt Tim?  _ His  _ Tim?

“G-got locked in a cl-closet.”

“What the  _ fuck,”  _ Jason seethes.

Tim sniffs. “S’okay. Steph was just w-worried about me.”

“So she locked you in a  _ closet? _ ”

He shrugs miserably.

Jason clearly wants to press the subject, but Dick shoots him a Look that quells him well enough. “C’mon,” the boy grumbles, tugging Tim along. “Bruce,  _ shift _ . We gotta warm him up.” 

-~*~-

Dick and Jason drift off eventually, but Tim’s breaths never deepen.  _ “You still awake, chum?”  _ Bruce rumbles, after about an hour of waiting for the boy to go to sleep.

He feels the boy’s nod. “...I think I want to stay with you,” Tim breathes into Bruce’s wings. 

Bruce tries not to grin, but he can’t help the happy rumble bubbling up in his chest.  _ “What made you change your mind?” _

“I-I was in that closet for a while,” the boy admits. “I don’t think I want to wait for my parents anymore. I… don’t think they like me,” Tim says in a small voice.

_ Oh, Tim…  _ Bruce is silent for a few moments, cautious of scaring Tim off with his response. Finally,  _ “Well,  _ we  _ love you very much, Tim. And more than that, we like you a lot.  _ _ Me, Dick and Jason, we all love you just the way you are, and there’s nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. You are a wonderful little boy, and I’m so sorry your parents ever made you feel like you’re not enough.” _

“Really?” Tim whispers.

_ “Really.” _

Tim nods, but Bruce can still smell the hesitation on his scent. Tim may not be convinced now, but they would fix that soon. Bruce will do whatever it takes. He won't fail his newest _Robyn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i failed my driver's test yesterday so I'm lowkey depressed lol but here


	4. Cass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank yall so much for the comments on the last chapter sorry I didn't respond I was ~still in depression mode~ but I'm better now >:)

Cass is one of the best passengers Bruce has ever had. He’s not worried in the slightest that she will slide off midair. She is not quite as graceful as Dick, but she has none of the oldest  _ Robyn’s  _ desire to do cartwheels a hundred feet from the ground. When Bruce sets down outside the manor, Cass pats his wings (strange, but not unwelcome), and scampers down and into the Manor. Bruce smiles faintly, listening expectantly. He is not disappointed. 

“Cass!” Three delighted voices ring out of the house, each piqued by surprise and delight. Taking that as his cue, Bruce strolls into the Manor, wings curled contentedly behind his back, listening to Dick tackle all three of his younger siblings in an inescapable hug. 

“You’re back!” 

“Are you staying? You’re staying now, right?”

_ “She’s staying,” _ Bruce reassures Dick as he lumbers into the parlor. He flaps up into a perch so he can keep an eye on his children without being too close.

“About time you broke the streak, B,” Jason shouts up from somewhere within the cuddle pile on the floor.

“You  _ never _ thought Bruce would break his pattern,” accuses Tim, obviously gloating. Over what, Bruce cannot say. He’s just glad Tim is finally talking more.

“Oh, whatever,” Jason retorts. “‘Sides, Cassy still  _ sorta  _ fits the type. Blue eyes, black hair. In fact, she looks almost identical to  _ you _ . If I wasn’t there for Bruce fawnin’ over her, I  woulda thought he mistaked her for you.” Underneath Dick’s weight, Tim and Cass both shoot each other a considering look.

_ “Mistook,”  _ Bruce corrects, rolling his eyes. It’s a futile effort; Jason knows grammar rules better than any of them, he just likes to get on Bruce’s nerves. Sure enough, the boy just winks. Mildly, the dragon continues,  _ “and I take offense to the implication that I couldn’t tell you all apart by scent alone.” _

“Holy superior senses, B,” Dick says, cheerily sarcastic. “Can I play with my new sister now?”

Without waiting for an answer, Dick swoops Cass up off the pile of limbs, bouncing her several times. The girl doesn’t startle, but she does giggle; a chiming, bouncing laugh that, combined with the slightly pointed ears, is the most obvious evidence of some distant, diluted elfin ancestry. That is, if you didn’t already have the ability to scent it on her blood.

As if reading Bruce’s mind, Dick apparently catches a whiff her, then gags playfully. “Actually, I could probably tell you and Tim apart by smell, too. You need a shower!” 

Cass smacks him. Not too hard, but not a love tap either.

“Ow! I was  _ kidding _ !”

“Mean,” she pouts.

“I didn’t mean it, Cassy.”

Cass holds out for a few seconds, before giving in to Dick’s puppy eyes. “For… forgive you. Play now!” she demands. Since Cass’ arrival, she has discovered the fascinating world of make believe. Her favorite game is Knights vs. Dragons.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the fifteen-year-old says, happily bouncing Cass once again.

Satisfied, Bruce shifts his attention to Jason, who looks very put-out at being ignored by his older brother. He watches Jason’s eyes slide slowly over to Tim, who’s sitting quietly on the floor. Tim glances up a second too late, and his eyes widen.

“No, Jay,  _ don’t- _ !”

Jason pounces, scooping Tim up like a bag of leaves. “No! Jason! P-put me down!” Tim struggles futilely in his older brother’s grip.

“Never!”

_ “Bruce!” _ From his perch, Bruce snorts softly. He’s perfectly happy  _ not  _ intervening.

Alfred’s comforting scent swans up Bruce’s rear legs. “Are you quite content now, Master Bruce?”

“No more  _ Robyns _ ,” Bruce agrees. It’s sort of a strange sentence to say aloud, mostly because of a tugging feeling in his gut that tells him he’s probably lying, and the fact that Steph’s mom, bless her heart, won’t last forever. 

But those are all problems for Future Bruce. Right now, the Manor is alive with the sound of giggling and shouting. Bruce had never imagined that his heart could love so many people, but it  _ did _ , and Bruce was forever grateful for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly not very good at fluff so i? lowkey am super grateful u guys are sticking with me


	5. Damian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dami's chapater >:)  
> timeline can get weird sometimes but it's honestly no worse than canon so

Damian comes home on what could have seen as a rare peaceful day, right up until his fledgling’s high little voice pierced the air. “ _ Drake _ !”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce can see Tim drop his head in exasperation. “Noooooo, not again.” Tim’s notorious aversion to mornings only ever seems to intensify around Damian.

“Damian, don’t bother your brother,” Bruce warns, but the fledgling either doesn’t hear him or is ignoring him.  _ Well, I tried,  _ Bruce thinks, going back to the grueling task of dulling Damian’s swords. 

Damian’s voice is irate even from a distance. “Keep your  _ Brown  _ on a leash. I  _ refuse  _ to submit to her p-pathetic attempts to order me around!”

“Try tellin’ Steph that,” Jason murmurs under his breath, drawing a quiet snort from Cass, over by the counter. The second  _ Robyn  _ is burning bacon to a crisp over an open flame, just the way they all like it. Ever since Jason had been allowed in the kitchen when he finally reached 13 years, he’d taken to cooking like a fae to the forest. Alfred thinks it’s horrendous, but he’s outnumbered five to one. 

Damian’s angry head finally pops around the corner. “Good day, Father.”

“Good morning, Damian. Done with Gotham?” Bruce asks mildly.

The fledgling purses his lips. “I suppose. I fail to see why you insist on wasting so much energy on humans, but I must admit there are  _ some  _ redeeming qualities of humanity. You win this round, Father.”

“Good. What did you like about it?”

Damian scowls. Ever since his arrival only a week earlier, his distaste for mortals, specifically humans, had caused an uproar in the Manor. Living among immortals had instilled a particular snobbery in the boy that Bruce, Dick, and Alfred were all working to train out. Spending a week with Stephanie seemed to have worked wonders, though Damian’s pride would barely let him admit it. It was lucky for all of them that Damian, at the tender age of five-ish, was still quite impressionable. It would take effort, but Bruce could see the evidence of a sweet young dragon under the… other stuff.

“I liked… the artwork,” Damian admits, still a bit sulky. “I would like to learn more about creating such works. And… I would not be  _ opposed  _ to visiting the circus animals with Gw- _ Grayson _ again.”

“Good,” Bruce hums, ignoring the little half-dragon’s slip up. That’s another thing about Damian; the boy is practically allergic to being called ’cute’, a word almost impossible to avoid at five years. “We could get you some technique books if you want.”

“Tt- whatever,” Damian said, feigning apathy quite badly. 

Before Damian even finishes speaking, the door bursts open. “I’m back!” Dick hollers from the entryway. Bruce can feel a smile threatening to twist his mouth.

Jason snarks, “I thought he was still busy with Wally, Kori, and them?”

“Apparently not,” Tim retorts. 

Sliding into the room, Dick aims a smile at Bruce, then Cass, and sticks his tongue out at Tim and Jason. Finally, his eyes settle on Damian just as the smaller reaches for a bowl, and his smile drops off his face.

“Holy skies, Damian!”

Bruce finally looks up from the katana as Dick rushes to Damian’s side and begins to pull at him. “Release me  _ at once, Grayson-!” _

The fifteen-year-old makes a concerned noise in the back of his throat. “What  _ happened  _ here?” Dick asks, finally tugging Damian’s arm out from his cloak. The fledgling snarls, but he can’t yank his limb away quick enough to hide the medium-sized bruise, slowly leaking characteristic blue blood, on his forearm. 

Jason pauses, setting down his charred breakfast. “You trip or something?” 

“No, you  _ imbecile,” _ Damian snarls, snatching his hand back. “I was merely involved in an… alt- uh- an altercation.” The last word forces itself out; obviously too complex for the small dragon. 

“An altercation?”

Damian sniffs haughtily. “Yes. Some pleb threw a rock at me. I put a stop to it.”

_ Oh _ .

“Someone threw a rock at you?” Dick’s voice is aghast.

Bruce scowls. He knew this would eventually become a problem; humans have had a (reasonable, Bruce can admit) fear of dragons since the Dark War. And Damian is. Well. Not exactly subtle.

“Did you kill him?” Bruce asks lowly.

“No. Though I still fail to see why you abide by this insipid rule of yours.”

“That’s what I was saying!” 

“Hush, Jason. Dick, go help Damian patch that up,” Bruce orders.

Dick grins at him. “Aye-aye, B.” Damian’s slitted eyes roll as he’s led from the room.

“Well, that went well,” Jason says sarcastically, poking at the bacon.

“Hnn.”

-~*~-

Later that night, Bruce is checking on the wards, when he glimpses a shadow trailing him, worryingly close to the strangler plants.

“Damian, come out from there.”

The boy slinks up to Bruce’s side. He didn’t even bother being surprised that Bruce had spotted him. The torchlight cast a glow that illuminated his pensive expression. “May I  accompany you?”

“Of course.”

Bruce makes the rest of his rounds, checking on each of the wards, scaring off the basilisks that liked to try their luck at the ponds, and checking on Alfred’s herbs for him. Damian trailed behind the whole time, watching critically.

Finally, Bruce finishes his tasks and turns to his little fledgling. “Alright, we’re done. What is it you want, Damian?” Bruce asks patiently. 

“I wanted to watch you do your duties. I will have to take over this Manor eventually, Father.”

“Mmhmm. Nothing else?”

Damian visibly struggles with the answer for a few good minutes. Finally, he bursts. “I just don’t  _ understand  _ why you keep  _ mortals  _ around you. Can’t you dispose of them now that you have me? Am I not enough?”

Callous as the question seems, Bruce can see that Damian The older dragon heaves a heavy sigh.  _ “You’re my Robyn too, Damian. You belong to me just as much as your siblings do. Maybe you’re a little different, but that just means you’re immensely valuable to me.  _ Not  _ more than your siblings,”  _ Bruce warns, because he can practically see Damian’s head getting bigger,  _ “not less. Just different.” _

There is a heavy pause. “Even Drake?” Damian asks, tone curdling with distaste.

Bruce snorts a warm gust of air.  _ “Even Tim,” _ he responds. 

Damian levels a critical look at him. “Not just because of his last name, right?”

Dear gods.  _ “No, Damian. I love Tim as a  _ person _. Just like I love you for who you are.” _

They sit in contemplative silence for a bit longer. “...Okay,” Damian says finally, tone confused. “I doubt I will ever understand, but I suppose that is acceptable for now.”

And there is  _ so much  _ he must teach Damian, so much the halfling must unlearn from Talia, but for the first time, Bruce catches a glimpse of the boy Damian could eventually become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep


	6. Duke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Grief, Minor Character Death (offscreen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter took so long because i lost my uncle recently, and writing this felt painful up until now. that being said, I wrote it (finally) but it's short and mostly kinda unedited, so if yall notice any typos or anything don't hesitate to comment lol

Duke’s homecoming is the very definition of bittersweet. It’s the culmination of months of hopeless dread surrounding his parents, and the state Jester left them in. After an agonizing, drawn out period of time where Duke’s parents slowly wasted away, their suffering finally came to an end in a horrific fire. 

That night, Alfred half-drags, half-carries him into the house, Steph trailing along with a pinched, sympathetic face. Bruce’s other  _ Robyns  _ whisper a few words of condolence that seem to barely register to Duke. The boy just nods and trudges to his new room, eyes glassy and unfocused, cheeks tear-stained. His hands are bloody and shaking. Bruce has never seen him so devastated. Duke is normally such a relaxed, bright presence in the manor that seeing him down and grieving brings a whole new feeling of melancholy to the house; makes it feel bigger than it really is. 

This is the worst part about  _ Robyns, _ Bruce realizes. That things happen to them that nobody, not even the dragon of Gotham, can prevent. And it shatters him. Maybe this is why  _ Robyns  _ are so rare; because it’s like a piece of his soul is walking around with its own thoughts and feelings and emotions that Bruce can’t help but be overwhelmed by. It takes more effort than he would’ve anticipated not to flashback to the night his parents never returned. It’s obvious that the kids pick up on this, because Cass glomps onto his arm and doesn’t let go, and Damian is particularly unskilled at masking his concerned glances despite Dick’s attempts to distract the six-year-old.

Duke stays holed up in his room after that initial appearance. When Bruce has sent the others to bed, he goes quietly to check on Duke, and to have the conversation he wishes he doesn’t have to give. 

The room is dark and cool. On the bed, there is a lump of blanket completely covering the boy underneath from the outside world. It’s utterly still, but Bruce can hear shuddering breaths from under the covers. Settling next to it, Bruce lightly brushes his hand up the blanket until he reaches the edge, gently tugging it down to reveal Duke’s tear-stained face. “Can I touch you?”

It takes a second, but Duke nods. Bruce smoothly pulls him into a hug, pressing the boy’s face into his shoulder, not minding in the slightest when he feels his sweater dampen. 

“I know it feels like your world is ending,” Bruce finally says. “I know you probably don’t want to talk right now, and I’m so, so sorry you have to go through this. We’ll be here for you, whatever you’re feeling.” Duke doesn’t respond. “Say something, for me?”

There’s another pause, as Bruce’s newest  _ Robyn  _ struggles for words. “...It  _ hurts _ , B,” Duke whispers.

Bruce sighs. “I know, chum.”

“I  _ miss  _ them.”

“I know, chum.”

“ _ Fuck.”  _ The tears were coming in earnest, now. Duke sobs until his breath deepens and he lulls into an exhausted slumber, but even when the boy is fully asleep, Bruce doesn’t stop whispering small comforts, instincts flaring to eliminate whatever was hurting his horde like this with no way to fulfill them.

This is the hardest part of having children, Bruce thinks sadly. Not for the first time, he wonders if he’s doing the right thing. Almost immediately, each of his  _ Robyn _ ’s smiles pops up behind his eyes. Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, Damian, and Duke; all of their bright smiles were as much his lifeblood as the flowing liquid in his veins.

Some parts of parenting are hard, yes, but it’s all worth it to make his children smile. And as he looks back on all his children’s first nights, and how far they’ve come now, he can’t imagine his life without any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap! thank you all so much for being here for me, I can't wait to see what the future has in store for this AU and my other works! much love y'all

**Author's Note:**

> again, sorry for the wait, but as always, kudos and comments give me life <3  
> Tumblr: @arguablysomaya


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